Mourning Prayers
Praising, Praying, Praising - the One who is the Creator
From the Son
In the stillness of earliest morning,
When night sits easily, silent and flowing
With the starlight glistening, and heavy sweetness
Of summer’s soothing, her wonder and beauty…
In the quiet of a morning prayer, devotions spoken
Prayers stilling each care, as melodies murmur
From the colors of the moon, the broken breath
Of a heart who’s gone too soon, to the unending…
Where I see that love has come to prepare
Love has come to seek, to seal, to make a way
Through the rhythms and rhymes, the blessings
They define what will once upon a time…
Color the soul in light, paint the silence in truth
This is summer’s hue… the melody of a life, unchained
By the burdens, the dread, the mistakes – a life
Who is come to say, He is here in the present, His presence
More than a flame, more than grace or hope
He is light and He teaches the soul to grow beyond
The music, the poetry, the prayers – grow like vines
Connected to the One who brought love down, the One
Who loves so that there is no doubt… with a love
That kindles a fire that no fear can ever put out,
A fire, flaming with joy and praise, glowing so that I see
The One who came and died for me, the One
Who made this hope reality – this hope that I believe
Will break the chains of doubt in me, the One
Who lasts throughout eternity, forever stirring
The beautiful in a heart who believes, the wonder
In a soul who agrees…
He is the reason I will forever see, the way through the pain
There is so much to gain, beyond the shadows of uncertainty
Beyond the grave, in everlasting peace… He is risen
And this is reason enough for me, to know I’m forgiven
And love will forever be living with me, throughout time
As I claim this victory that is surely mine,
Victory in the Lord who died, then arose from the tomb
To bring a hope to me and you – hope for everlasting
Hope that will forever remind me to see…
The wonder of a love that I’ll always keep
A love that is beyond understanding because it sees
Through the darkness into the light, where I know
There is hope forevermore, there is love that will grow and grow
Silencing the fears, erasing the tears, and living through the years
So that whatever comes, I know the One whose love has won
I know the One who told me, despite all I’ve done,
I have a hope that is only just begun – I have a love that comes from the Son!
When I was told that my first husband, Jim, was missing in Auca Indian country, the Lord brought to my mind some words from the Prophet Isaiah. “When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee” (Isa. 43:2 kjv). I prayed silently, Lord, let not the waters overflow. And He heard me and He answered me. Two years later I went to live with the Indians who had killed Jim. Sixteen years after that, after I had come back to the states, I married a theologian named Addison Leitch. He died of cancer three and a half years later. There have been some hard things in my life, of course, as there have been in yours, and I cannot say to you, I know exactly what you’re going through. But I can say that I know the One who knows. And I’ve come to see that it’s through the deepest suffering that God has taught me the deepest lessons. And if we’ll trust Him for it, we can come through to the unshakable assurance that He’s in charge. He has a loving purpose. And He can transform something terrible into something wonderful. Suffering is never for nothing.
Elliot, Elisabeth. Suffering Is Never for Nothing (p. 12). B&H Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.
The Loudest Silence
in the air, just after the storm
there is a stillness,
changing the heart, the soul
so wherever light falls
there are shadows of regret
reflected in the music
the rhythm of serenity
fading beneath the sea of grief
wisdoms shame our deeds
as the stars reveal each pitiful
pleasure, each intimate gesture
in the air, after the storm
in the hesitation of a silent melody
in the air, just after the snow
there is a calm, a soothing
who awakens the spirit
with the shrillest truth
when winter’s voice makes her choice
there is silence that trembles
a story that aches to be told
melancholy so rich, so bold
gentling the tears
shushing the fears
reminding the heart to breathe
so the wind will soon leave
her story in those white flakes
for the memory’s sake
in the air, after the snow
quiet wind feeding the lost soul
seeking to find, beneath the bitter
a worthy prayer, a healing
the feeling of warmth that rises
from the faded image of flurries
too alive, but still blurred
by the voice on winter’s storm
in the air, just after the rain
dries the spirit, rekindles the blame
so summertime perfect
turns to the whisper who fails,
the grieving of a season
who knows she hasn’t the time
to cast her light across the meadows,
her hesitant prayer feels
more like a wish than the reality
that trembles through the air,
breaking into the glorious freedom
so sweet and so rare
the freedom of a joy who is found
when the summer fights away
autumn’s slow caress
when summer flows with grace
across the dusty hills,
despite the showers who say
this is the reason we’ve come
this is the reason we’re here
this is the summer’s fate
the air that will never shade
the light that will never heal
the balmy feel of the season’s will
in the air, just after the rain
who drizzles through the distance
in praise for the love who lives
just past the skies, in the heights
of summertime, as she flies
rising high, oh, rising high
in the air, just after the dreary dusk
a word forms of salty lips
salted by mellow tears,
risking the graceful feelings
flowing down from the heart who hears
His peace, His love, His grace
murmuring through the ages,
a soundless moment, silence
so loud it feels like the story will burst,
in the wisdom of a hope that comes first
from the love that seeks
the light that weeps,
such a music, such peace
in the air, who bleeds
for the time when life knew
this blessing, so good and true
the blessing of a God who just knew
we were healed by His stripes,
we were sealed by His prayers
we were more than still life
we were those who spoke to Him
in the air, after the dreary dusk
the music of praise on our lips
the moment a distant grace
this time, seeing Him in every face
seeing Him, forever our place
seeing Him, as I keep running this race!
